


Don't Be Nice

by walking_travesty



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: AU, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Auguste Lives, Auguste is King, Damen is King, Fluff, I dont know how to tag, Implied Relationships, Kinda, Laurent being Laurent, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Vere and Akielos are at peace, sorry - Freeform, we all know how that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:38:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_travesty/pseuds/walking_travesty
Summary: An AU where Auguste and Damen are Kings, Vere and Akielos are at peace, and Damen has never met Laurent before.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to reread the series and it's been an experience and I finally decided to finish this ficlet that's been sitting in my story folder for a year now. Enjoy! 
> 
> Title from Watsky's song of the same name.

The garden was at capacity, brimming with smiling patrons. The sun was setting along the coast to the west, rays of light reflected against the dark blue, rolling, waves of the ocean. It was a beautiful day for an event; a late summer breeze leisurely flowing through the open courtyard. Damen puts a golden chalice to his lips, sipping wine as he looks among the crowd. There was laughing and joyous energy being carried throughout the space, and it exuberated him, his heart swelling with an uncontainable love for his people. 

“I hope you are enjoying yourself, Damen,” Nikandros murmurs beside him, raising his cup to him before taking a sip. Damen turns toward his friend, tilting his own cup in his direction. 

“I must say, you have truly outdone yourself this time,” Damen comments. 

The reason for the event was simple; it was the start of a new beginning. For the last two hundred years, there was endless conflict between the countries of Vere and Akielos. They were thought to be born enemies; their cultures and languages the polar opposite of one another. It seemed that the fighting would never stop. 

Until two Kings rose to power; Damianos of Akielos and Auguste of Vere. The ascensions could not have happened at a more perfect time; war threatening to break out along the border of their countries. Damen did not want to follow in the footsteps of his father; settling each dispute with battle and furthering the schism between the two nations. Damen wanted an alliance with all the nations that surrounded Akielos. He had grown up seeing too much violence between the two nations, he wanted it to stop once and for all. So when Auguste took the throne, his father having passed in the night, Damen made it a personal duty to reach a hand out in camaraderie to the country of Vere. 

This event was part of a festival that would last a week, celebrating the newly signed peace treaty of the two nations. The King of Vere, Auguste, would arrive in the morning to celebrate with them. 

“I’m just glad that this fight is finally over,” Nikandros says lowly, looking out to the crowd. Damen hums in agreement, taking another sip of wine. 

“Let us pray that this peace stays,” Damen sighs in return. He turns from Nikandros the to the crowd, his attention drawn to one figure in particular. 

The man was stunning. 

He was slender, yet the set of his shoulders suggested he had hidden strength. His skin was fair, almost as light as the stone in which the palace was made from. He had bright blond hair that hid the bluest eyes that Damen had ever seen. The man was expressionless, his slender fingers brushing a strand of his golden hair from his eyes, his attention focused on the Akielian general, Makedon. In an instant, his blue gaze is directed towards Damen. There is a look of slight curiosity in his gaze, his angular face giving nothing away. He finishes his conversation with Makedon, glancing once more at Damen before he wanders back into the crowd. 

Damen had to speak with him. 

He looks over toward his right, frowning once he sees that Nikandros is nowhere to be found. 

\-- 

 

Damen stands next to the man, finger brushing against the pale, flawless skin on his shoulder. The man turns his head, bright blond hair gleaming against the evening sun. His eyes were a rich, profound shade of blue, his pale skin making them seem even bigger than they were. He gives Damen a disinterested look, pale fingers curling around his thin shoulder. 

“May I help you, your highness?” He asks, his tone formal with a hint of disdain. Damen shakes off the feeling his voice creates, offering him a warm smile. 

“Would you like some wine?” Damen asks, offering him the cup in his hand. His eyes look down at his hand and then up at Damen’s face, eyes growing a few degrees colder. 

“No,” The man says, a subtle frown forming on his petal pink lips. Damen follows the curve of his lips, mesmerized by the shape of his mouth. A brief thought of leaning in to see how those lips felt against his crossed his mind. He pushed it away, clearing his throat. The man raises a delicate eyebrow at him when he doesn’t reply, his frown deepening. 

“Is there something else you want?” He asks, chin jutting up in annoyance. Damen can feel a burning sensation forming in his lower abdomen, muscles contracting at the action. 

“It appears you know me, but I do not know you,” He replies coolly, smile faltering slightly, “I can only assume you are from Vere?” He could tell from the fair complexion that glowed in the setting Akielian sun. He could also tell from the intricate design of his clothing; the Veretians being known for their fine detailing and eccentricness. The man was laced from neck to toe, to the point where it almost looked painful. The one thing that Damen could positively say about the clothing, was how well it brought out the color of the man’s eyes. 

An unknown emotion flits across the stranger’s countenance, his entire body chemistry changing. A blank expression forms on his face, his eyes feigning disinterest and agitation. With a sigh, his eyes casting down toward the ground, he gives his nails a thorough examination before he decides to draw his attention back toward the King of Akielos 

“Perhaps I do not want you to know me,” The man says, the corners of his thin mouth lifting in a smile that was anything but friendly. He gives Damen another once over before he grabs the drink from Damen’s hand, walking away. 

He is gone before Damen can even think of a response. 

\-- 

For the rest of the evening, Damen never takes his eyes off of the blond. 

He feels frustrated with himself if he’s honest, his jaw clenching and his hands forming into fists; why was this man so infuriatingly unattainable? 

Damen did not want to appear arrogant, but he had never been disregarded in this way before. He felt lost, cold in the foreign feeling. He was used to being loved, adored, sought after by many; every man or woman he wanted was his with little hesitancy. 

Except for one man in particular. 

He watches him over the crowd, his light head a beacon in a sea of dark hair and dark skin. He swayed in the crowd, his slender figure gracefully floating from one person to another. He smiled occasionally; his smile just as beautiful as his entire being. 

What was the most troubling to Damen is how _badly_ he wants this man. Not just to bed, but to care for, to court. He wanted this man in anyway he could get him. 

But he appeared to not want him. 

Damen was no stranger to the concept of denial; he would gladly move on and respect one’s decision. If it were anyone else. He felt guilty for this, he felt guilty for feeling so relentlessly ambitious to get this man’s attention. 

He barely knew him. 

Damen feels like an adolescent all over again; his heart and something else aching for the attention of a certain blonde haired girl. She had treated him in a similar fashion back then, her eyes cold, calculating as she brought Damen closer only to push him back again. It was years later that he finally caught her attention; her pale fingers wrapping around him like vines and her lips tasting of the most decadent dessert he had ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

No, this time would be different. 

“I see you have spotted our Veretian guest,” Nikandros says next to him, the hint of amusement in his tone. Damen frowns up at him, looking back out to the crowd. The man was now at the edge of the garden, the sky a deep orange on the horizon. The sunlight made his gold hair blaze as bright as fire. He leaned against the balcony, his eyes focused out to the sea. 

“Is he nobility? I have never seen him before,” Damen asked, pouting. Nikandros laughs at the question, sitting in the seat next to Damen’s at the table. He places a rough hand on Damen’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“Your highness, he is Prince Laurent of Vere, King Auguste’s younger brother.” 

How could Damen be so blind. It made sense; the bright blond hair, the fair skin, the deep blue eyes. This man was of royal blood. He feels sick to his stomach, the muscles in his abdomen turning with embarrassment. 

“I thought the King and his countrymen would not arrive until the morning?” Damen asked in a low voice, his eyes looking toward the crowd again. Laurent was nowhere to be found. 

Nikandros shrugs, giving Damen a knowing look, “The King arrives tomorrow, the Prince arrived midday ahead of his brother. You were meant to be notified of the arrival.” He smiles after he says it, getting up from the table without another word. Damen flushes. 

This was a set up. 

Nikandros knew how bewitched he was by fair skin and light hair; a rarity in Akielos. As King, Damen knew of the King of Vere and his family, however, he never had the pleasure of being introduced to the youngest and only brother of the crowned King. 

He had heard rumors of the young Prince’s beauty, but it was nothing compared to seeing it in front of him. Damen gets up from his seat abruptly, determined to find Laurent and apologize if he can. He steps down into the crowd, the space not as packed as it had been earlier in the evening. He walks over to the balcony and looks on, looking down toward the beach. He smiles when he sees a faint blond figure in the distance. Damen turns back to the crowd, beckoning a guard over when he makes eye contact with him. 

“Exalted,” The guard says, kneeling before Damen. 

“Ready a horse for me, I want to ride down to the beach,” Damen says, looking back toward the beach down below after he dismisses the guard. 

 

\--

“Prince Laurent,” Damen says once he catches up to him. He dismounts the horse, adjusting the vector leaves on top of his head. Laurent turns to look at him, his eyes jaded and unreadable. 

“I see you know who I am now,” Laurent says, his voice cool with a hint of venom. Damen flushes at the comment, clearing his throat. 

“I would like to apologize. I was never informed of your arrival earlier and did not have time to welcome you here.” Laurent looks displeased with the explanation, his eyes raking over Damen’s form. He crosses his arms over his chest, walking a few paces until he was stood directly in front of Damen. 

“Did you even know of my existence?” Laurent snips, his blue eyes narrowing. Damen is taken back by the question, his chest constricting. 

“Of course, I knew that Auguste had a brother, but I did not know that you would be -” 

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” Laurent asks, a dark brow raised in question. Damen stops his sentence, his mouth shutting at the suggestion. 

“Excuse me?” 

Laurent walks closer, his chest a breath away from Damen’s. He raises a pale hand, his fingers caressing the side of Damen’s face. His fingers drag into Damen’s hair, the action making the King’s eyes close. Laurent hums under his breath, fingers leaving Damen’s hair without warning. 

“When you first approached me, I could see it in your eyes, your highness,” Laurent whispers, his breath fanning over Damen’s chin softly, “But I’m not a whore.” The words have Damen frowning, his eyes opening. Laurent is already walking away from him, mounting his horse. He gives Damen another distasteful look, taking the reins. 

“I did not think you were, I-” 

“It will not be that easy to bed me, Damianos,” Laurent calls, a wolfish grin forming on his lips. Damen is completely mesmerized by him. He gives him a smile back, the wind rustling his chiton.  
“I did not think it would be. I intend to court you,” Damen says, walking towards Laurent. Laurent considers him, his eyes cool and calculating. 

“I would love to see you try.” 

Those are the last words he says before he trots back up to the palace on Damen’s horse. 

Damen does not think he has ever been more in love in his life. 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!!  
> Feel free to leave a comment down below, I love hearing feedback! Kudos are also very much appreciated :^) 
> 
> tumblr| [personal](http://www.blissless-oblivion.tumblr.com)


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